*This is an excerpt from a longer story written in 2016, titled Forging a New American Dream, which is a nonfiction account of my personal relationship to money*
After three years of trying my best to save up, senior year turned out to be the one year I could afford to have a real spring break: tropical location, good friends, and some delicious drinks. My best friend, Lucy, invited me to visit her parents in Port Saint Lucie, Florida. It worked out nicely for everyone involved: we both got to see her family and get the warm, sunny spring break we imagined we would get at one point in our college years.
The Barons are like family to me. Beth and Blake, Lucy’s parents, had set me up in one of their empty bedrooms. Blake makes a mean margarita, complete with the salt rim and the lime on the brim of the glass. This trip was everything I had dreamed of: good friends and family, beautiful location, and a stress free environment.
“Sophie,” Beth shouted across the room while she made a second margarita for both of us, “are you in for watching the sunrise from the beach tomorrow?”
Sophie got up from her spot on the couch, laughing a little as she waited for her little Yorkie, Lilly, to follow her.
“Oh god no, that’s way too early for me,” she said looking my direction. “Take lots of good pictures though.”
“Noted, I’ll take some for you,” I told her. Beth handed me my glass, salt on the rim and lime tossed in the glass this time. One sip through the metal straw and I was in paradise.
“Lucy! What about you?” Lucy looked up from her computer at the dining room table and shook her head. She closed her laptop and took her plate into the kitchen.
“I have workout in the morning,” she said. “I’ll see you afterwards though.”
“Good night, darling,” Beth said and gave her a kiss on the cheek. It was just Beth and I, sitting on their teal leather couch.
“I guess it’s just us tomorrow,” I said and took another sip of my margarita. Beth smiled.
“Don’t forget the selfie sticks! We’ll take lots of pictures and videos!”
Five the next morning hit me hard despite how early I got up for hockey. It wasn’t so much a struggle though when I looked out my window over the pond, seeing the stars above and the faintest of lights from the east awaiting us at the beach.
The drive was only twenty minutes, accompanied by early morning radio and a little Dunkin’ Donuts coffee to keep us up while we waited at the beach. When we arrived, both of us lugged our chairs and blankets from the car. The sky was dark and we had to use a flashlight to find our way to the perfect spot.
“This is gorgeous,” I said as I sat down and wrapped the blanket around me. Mrs. Baron held onto her coffee, placing her selfie stick in her lap. I did the same, attaching my phone while we waited for the first signs of daylight.
“I like little stuff like this. I think I would love it here,” I told her. Beth nodded and took a sip of her coffee, two creams and one sugar.
“You’re always welcome. If you get a job here, you’re more than welcome to stay with us. Save some money, get a car, work and relax. You’re like our daughter. That room could be yours,” she told me. The idea made my heart skip a beat. Living here would be a dream: no snow, beaches year round, sunshine and island life attitudes. I didn’t even care about the reptiles, hurricanes, tropical storms, or flooding. Florida was a place I had always felt at ease.
“That would be amazing, if it wasn’t too much of a hassle,” I said all too quickly. Beth laughed at me, shaking her head.
“You’re like family. It’s no problem at all,” she said to me.
Entertaining the thought, my palette for the future widened. Just over the horizon, the sun was peaking out through the clouds. I clicked my time lapse on, watching as the timer began to take snapshots. Mrs. Baron checked her phone, looking for the time the sun would officially rise.
We both were silent for a little while as I thought about how fast time had flown by. In my wildest dreams, I would have never imagined myself sitting on this beach, enjoying the sunrise, and looking ahead to dozens of job applications that awaited me. My four years in university went by like the speed of light.
“Look, there it is!” Mrs. Baron pointed out in the distance to the very small but bright light peeking through the canvas of clouds on the horizon. My stomach knotted up; these were the little pleasures that sent the imaginative child in me over the moon. It was in these moments that materialism and my worry over money didn’t take high priority.
Sure, I was doing an entire project on what the entire American dream symbolized for America as a whole, past and present. It didn’t mean I necessarily agreed that the idea of this “American dream” was entirely existent. Some of the people who represented this dream were either ethically corrupt, not focused on the right goals, or overtaken with greed in their perspective industries.
If you wanted to live a life of luxuries and have no self-fulfilling meaning to your life, follow in the footsteps of Gatsby or Ford. But to truly feel your purpose and peace, it was moments like this—feet in the sand, thoughts high up in the clouds, breeze flowing through your hair—away from the pressures of society that opened your soul up to what you truly want in life. Money and doing things with your money was not what life was about, at least not to me. Not with my previous experience.
“This is going to make such a cool time lapse.” I stopped the time lapse, shutting my phone and shrinking my selfie stick down to its original size. Stuffing it in my bag, Beth and I began to pack up our gear.
“Wait! Let’s take a selfie,” she said and stood in front of me, holding up the stick and her phone. She did her best to get the right angle. One click of her camera and just like that, my favorite form of currency was produced: a memory. A beautiful memory surrounded by only the purest of life’s goods: good company, nature, and time.
